


He who walks alone

by kesomon



Series: Original Fic [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Clans, Empathy, Gen, Identity, Mental communication, Nebati, Original Fiction, Telempathy, Telepathy, Thesa, kesomon, self-identification, space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 16:07:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5749558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kesomon/pseuds/kesomon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short snippet of original work from the Starfall universe. Probably not canon to actual events.</p>
<p>A name is important in Thesian culture; for the kesomon, a race of telempaths, how you define yourself is more than just a string of random sounds. It's impression and feeling and identity. To twist it into something else is...insulting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He who walks alone

**Author's Note:**

> Things that aren't important to this ficlet but are handy to know:  
> Keso: a kesomon jack (male) of the coastal White Cliffs clan, who specialize in diving off the rocks for fish; aka coast-diver. Brown with darker stripes and russet feathers.
> 
> :Rock-dancer: - Queen (both female and leader) of the West River clan, grayish-brown with similar feathers.
> 
> Captain Thiresa Natal: spaceship captain of the L.C., Nebatian, appearance suggests an anthropomorphic bipedal collie.
> 
> the kesomon: a race inhabiting the planet Thesa, resembling large felines with feathered wings and tails, communicating through telepathy/empathic broadcast (images/feelings/impressions translated by the brain into recognisable words.) Not actually mammalian; genetic structure closer to Permian Therapsids.

:Rock-dancer: sniffed, her wings giving a dismissive shuffle as she turned her nose away. ~ _You have no authority here, :Kit-who-walks-alone:._ ~

The jack’s ruff bristled, not at the slight, but at the turn of his name, twisting the sense-pattern that defined him into something more crude, demeaning even from a clan head. He stared at her, cold irritation radiating for them all to feel. ~ _My name is :Leads-ahead:, my Queen_.~

~ _YOU ARE :WALKS-ALONE:_ ,~ she countermanded, snapping about to hiss with fangs bared and wings in mantle. He flinched back, ears angled, as the queen of the river-folk loomed above him. ~ _For that is what you are, now. Why should we listen to an outcast, who by his own admission was the cause of this madness? I will not see my clan to ruin as yours, coast-diver_.~

:Leads-ahead: inhaled slowly, releasing turmoil to broadcast only calm determination. ~ _*Because* it was my fault…and I would *not see* any other clan to ruin. Please, my Queen; I only ask for a chance to be heard_.~

:Rock-dancer: frowned with suspicion down at the huddled jack. Then, up to his allies, the two-footed Landers radiating unshielded concern. Some of their hands rested on items at their belts, clearly sensing the hostilities and unsure of the outcome. She could sense the intent of violence in them, if provoked, curled dark in the corners of their minds.

~ _Very well_ ,~ she determined, and raised her head, barking a verbal command to her envoy. The kesomon around them relaxed. ~ _We will hear you, :Walks-alone:._ ~ He cringed again at the warp of his name. She turned gold eyes back upon him, narrowed in distrust. ~ _And *then* we will decide if you are worth listening to._ ~

The male ducked his head, not lifting it until :Rock-dancer: had turned to prowl back towards the river-folk’s scoop. Only then did he breath a sigh, relief and sorrow in the mental hum that buzzed through his companion’s minds.

“Keso,” one of them spoke, the leader of the group, kneeling down beside the coast-diver. “What was that about?”

The kesomon turned, ears flicking foward in concentration to form his broadcast into recognizable Common for the Nebatian Captain. ~ _We have been granted an audience to tell our tale, Thiresa_ ~ he explained. ~ _I only hope we can convince them to help us._ ~

“I got that much, I think,” Captain Natal mused. “What I meant was, what did she call you? It was…” she trailed off, lacking the language to describe it. “It was your name, but it…wasn’t. Was it?”

Keso’s wings tightened to his back as he looked briefly away. ~ _No. For us, the meaning of a name is far more important then how it is translated. Your common tongue calls me ‘Keso’_.~

Captain Natal nodded, a puzzled frown. “It means hunter.”

~ _Because your impression of my name gives it that meaning._ ~ He sent a burst of image-song, * _/pack-stalk-leading the charge_ *, feelings of authority and command and community. As the Captain absorbed the empathic broadcast with growing ease, Keso added a burst of subdued self-flagellation. ~ _It can be felt differently, however, and to change the impression is…_ ~ He trailed off, shook his head, as he shifted the broadcast; the sense of leadership became _loneliness_ , empty and hungry and without clan, as the leader of a hunt could not see those following behind.

The Captain gasped quietly at the sensation, jolting back, and Keso reined his broadcast in immediately, wrapping the emotions in a shroud of mental shielding. ~ _Apologies, Captain_.~

“No, it’s…I wasn’t expecting it, is all,” The Nebatian reassured, shaking her head, and frowned in the direction of the river-folk’s Queen. “And she…called you that? Geez. Rude for a supposed benevolent monarch.”

Keso sent a quiet brush of wry acceptance, wrapped in sorrow, and shrugged, the motion unsettling his feathers. ~ _It was accurate,_ ~ he demurred. ~ _I am :Walks-alone:, no matter how much I wish to deny it._ ~

The Captain stared at him a moment, and then snorted. “That’s a load of hock, kid. Maybe you’re clanless, but you ain’t alone.” To Keso’s shock, she reached out, scritching glove-tipped fingers deep into his ruff, until the kesomon’s stiff posture melted and leaned into the touch with an almost desperate tactile craving.

“I told you we’d stick this out with you to the end,” Thiresa promised quietly, smoothing her palm over Keso’s ears. “And if these folk don’t want you when it’s all done, you can tag along with us. The L.C. has plenty of room aboard.”

Keso closed his eyes, unable to tamp down the well of gratitude that pulsed through their contact. His whiskers trembled as he purred, low and soft. ~ _Thank you, Captain._ ~

Captain Natal smiled, giving him one last stroke from crown to shoulder, and stood, brushing leaf-litter from her trousers. “Right, then, troups. Lets convince a bunch of featherfluffs to help save the world.”

Easier said than done, really.


End file.
